FadedHappiness
on Mysteriously seized by Prince of Void
18 Aug 2004, 4:16 PM
*8* ^^ nice
i tell myself the same thing all the time -10-
Something feels right here. Good job.
Great poem, it made me smile.
"Coldly smothering the fetus: rebellion"
That'll show those non-feotus-smothering government squares.
'80s
I know that it is bad but it was very random. I was just thinking about my boyfriend at the moment.
I really liked reading you poem.
I found this a quite interesting poem, I loved verse six.
WOW...*speechless* thats beautiful ^^ *10*
What needs to be said that you haven't my friend!
Not a single English error that I can see. Wish I could do as well in another language. A good message for poetry and probably comes through as such in your native tongue. English is a clumbsy thing.
I dig the way it builds up each verse grows slightly more intense. With the word usage becomming of a more violent nature with each verse. Progression is an area I find myself somewhat weak in. I do so admire it in others work.
I disagree I think that the rhyming adds to the psuedo whimsical nature of the poem it adds a sarcastic twinge. However I feel that If you want to go this route then perhaps you should go all the way. I would Like to see this as a sonnet. But then again I'm just naturally one for pervercity.
I can dig the feeling of this, but I have one criticism and it's a criticism I have made of myself in the past, the word pain is such an easy word to use and it comes very naturally however there is a tendancy to dismiss it. For me it's a red flag word. I suppose what I'm trying to say is it's better in my opinion to describe pain without using the word pain. Again jsut my opinion. Otherwise I can dig it.
"Burn the lands to dry barren earth
On which these dark seeds lay strewn."
If only the government would adopt a similar policy of ethnic fire bombing. Look at what Britain has become: Ethnic foods stain our cobbles, tainting the earth in vast swathes of brown; Ethnic smells pollute our parks and town squares, sullying our nostrils with the filth of distant, foreign lands; Ethnic wipes litter our streets and places of work - is it any wonder Gentlemen have taken to wearing gloves at all times? It's all decent, civilised people can do to keep from accidentally reaching for a teacup only to find you've picked up some monstrously soiled tow'lette instead. No Sir, this is not the land I once loved; a land in which all men were free to stroll through the gardens of St James, gay and carefree, unhampered by the constant, crippling fear that at any moment you could end up tredding on a giant upturned turban stuffed full of spicy sausage meats. -10-